


Armor Streaked with Ashes

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Being Lost, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Car Accidents, Coma, Existential Angst, Explanations, Fainting, Fever Dreams, Guilt, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, It's Hard and Nobody Understands, Major Character Injury, Medical Trauma, Mid-Canon, Missing in Action, Panic Attacks, Search and Rescue, Separation Anxiety, Spark Bond, Twins, Understanding, Waiting, Whump, Worry, compassion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:10:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunstreaker is missing in action and Sideswipe is starting to show odd symptoms that Ratchet can't diagnose. The rest of the Autobots try to help as best they can, but only two in particular actually understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armor Streaked with Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> The one-word prompt: "Collision"  
> I pulled up a list of the G1 Autobots on the internet, closed my eyes and clicked on a random name. I came up with Sunstreaker, but somehow this turned into being about Sideswipe. :P

_“He still hasn’t checked in, Prime,” Sideswipe declared. “I know something’s wrong.”_

_“Stay calm, Sideswipe,” Optimus soothed. “We’re doing everything we can—”_

_“Not everything,” Sideswipe interrupted fiercely. “Let me out there.”_

_Optimus hesitated. “Sideswipe, this illness of yours…Ratchet hasn’t yet diagnosed what it is. He wouldn’t want me to release you without treatment.”_

_“It won’t stop me,” the Lambo insisted. “I’ve got painkiller chips that take the edge off but still let me be alert. I can find him; you understand that they don’t know him like I do.” Here he brushed a telling hand over his chest. As much as he wanted to keep his hand there, the anxious glow of his spark was heating the metal beyond long contact._

_Optimus considered a klik longer before nodding briskly. “Very well. Join Ironhide and Inferno in the eastern sector.”_

_Sideswipe’s smile was strained, but it was the first of the day. “Thank you, sir.”_

_His services weren’t needed; he reached them too late_.

Sideswipe stirred when he felt something cool leaving a trail of moisture over his chest. His processor booted very slowly, refusing to provide answers to his faint thoughts of _Where am I? What’s happened?_

Finally his optics came online and he found someone standing above him, looking quite concerned. It was dark, so he didn’t recognize him for a few kliks, but eventually he discerned it was Ratchet.

“You’re awake,” the medic proclaimed. “I have to go tell the others—” Sideswipe latched painfully onto his arm as he turned, jerking him back into view.

“How long?” Sideswipe demanded hoarsely.

“Three orns. You’ve been suffering from a fever; Ironhide brought you back unconscious,” Ratchet answered, wincing a little as Sideswipe twisted his wrist.

“Where is my brother?”

Ratchet’s frown deepened. “Calm down. Your fever only just broke—”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sideswipe growled.

“And I’ll leave it to others more equipped,” Ratchet replied sternly as he pried Sideswipe’s hand from his wrist and strode away. Sideswipe stared at the ceiling for a long moment before hoisting himself upright, clutching his helm as the med bay spun. He swung his legs a little, searching for the solidity of the floor.

“Don’t try to stand,” Prowl cautioned, startling Sideswipe. When had the second-in-command appeared?

“Where is my brother?” Sideswipe repeated, trying to muster force into his tone. Instead it sounded like a pitiful sparkling had spoken.

Prowl gestured wordlessly and Sideswipe followed his hand. His vents hitched when he saw the life support systems rigged to a prone form that glimmered gold in the dim light.

“He’s alive?” he questioned worriedly.

“Yes,” Prowl replied, approaching and moving to sit on a berth facing Sideswipe, blocking his view of Sunstreaker. Sideswipe glared at him and Prowl fished out a data pad, unaffected.

“Do you remember what happened, Sideswipe? After you left the _Ark_ to look for him?”

Sideswipe went rigid, clenching his hands between his knees as he nodded.

“Well, then, since I don’t have to tell you, tell _me_.”

Sideswipe wanted to shutter his optics, but he knew exactly what he would see in his mind if he did it, so he stared pointedly at Prowl. He would remain calm and collected, as Prowl was demonstrating. He wouldn’t be shaken. “I left the _Ark_ to meet up with Ironhide and Inferno, like Prime told me to. I messaged Ironhide asking for the coordinates and he gave them to me. It took me about…twenty minutes to reach them.”

“Twenty minutes,” Prowl repeated. “Why so long?”

“I took a painkiller chip,” Sideswipe admitted. “I think it made me a little woozy.”

“Even though you had told Prime that you’d be able to stay alert? That was why he let you go,” Prowl pointed out.

“I know that!” Sideswipe snapped. Prowl frowned and Sideswipe hunched his shoulders, muttering an apology.

“You didn’t know it, but another slowing contribution could be that you were feverish, as Ratchet told you,” Prowl went on coolly. “At least, you were when you reached them.” At Sideswipe’s vexed expression, Prowl resumed his note-taking. “Returning to what you remember?”

“Yeah. Whatever the reason, it took me twenty minutes to reach them. They had moved a little bit further down the road than where they had been; maybe they got tired of waiting for me. But when I got there…” Despite his determination to stay calm, Sideswipe stopped. Even without taking his gaze off Prowl, he was seeing it all over again.

_“Ironhide, your water gun! Gimme a hand!” Inferno shouted, folding into vehicle mode and spraying foam in a wide upward arc as Ironhide dropped to a crouch to hit the crisis from below._

_Sideswipe stumbled toward them, opening his mouth to shout a question. It was then that agony struck, bowling him over without contest. Ironhide glanced over his shoulder and spotted him on his side._

_“Sideswipe! Inferno, can ya handle—?”_

_“I got it,” Inferno declared savagely, more focused on the flames than the weapons specialist. “Get ’im outta here; he can’t see this!”_

_As Ironhide knelt down next to him, Sideswipe panted, “What’s happening? Where’s the fire?”_

_“Don’t concern yourself with it,” Ironhide brushed away the question hastily. “What’s wrong with you?”_

_Sideswipe drew the connection no one else could have made right then. “Oh, Primus, no!” Scrambling halfway up, Sideswipe threw himself toward the flames, but Ironhide caught him over one shoulder. Kicking and thrashing even as the heat permeating his frame became excruciating beyond consciousness, Sideswipe howled. “Sunny! SUNNY!!”_

_“Quit squirmin’, ya little punk!” Ironhide snapped as he crushed Sideswipe’s knees to his chest, using them as leverage as the rest of Sideswipe’s body threw itself further over his shoulder. “Stop, please! We don’t wanna have t’rescue you both from in there! Sideswipe!”_

“Sideswipe,” Prowl repeated, clutching his shoulders. “Sideswipe, do you know where you are?”

Gasping, Sideswipe jerked away from him, digging the heels of his palms into his optics. “The other car…The driver was dead, killed in the crash. There must have been a spark somewhere. Sunny had been bleeding and the energon—He was _on fire_ when I got there,” he whispered. “I couldn’t get to him; I _should’ve_ been able to get to him, but that must have been when I passed out. I was _weak_ —”

“Sideswipe, listen to me,” Prowl intoned firmly. “I understand. It manifests itself physically; Sunstreaker's fire was your fever. It's the pain of being two halves of one spark. It hurts like no one can fragging believe, deep in your chest where you can’t get to it, but I also know that your brother would never want you to blame yourself for this. Mine didn’t and yours won’t.”

Before he quite knew what he was doing, Sideswipe had his arms lodged around Prowl’s neck and his face buried in his chest. Prowl remained perfectly still, unsure of what to make of this action, but Sideswipe didn’t care. He could feel the thrum of Prowl’s spark beneath the armor and that actually amounted to something.

“You…do understand,” he mumbled. “When Bluestreak was blinded—Praxus before that—” He paused, wondering if he’d brought up issues that were too sensitive. For a moment it did seem as though Prowl were going to push him away, but then…

“Yes.” The SIC’s low voice was even softer than usual. “Despite how close we get to our twins, despite how close we get to _saving_ them, sometimes they’re still out of reach. It hurts both halves of the spark, but all that can and should be done is that we pick them up and brush the ashes from their armor after the fire’s out.”

Sideswipe pulled back, meeting Prowl’s optics. To his surprise, he didn’t have to search out compassion there; he simply found it.

“He’ll be there on the other side,” Prowl concluded. “So meet in the middle.”

As Prowl picked up his pad and left, Sideswipe shuffled toward the occupied berth and sank down next to it. At least his brother’s face was unscathed.

“I have a feeling the first thing you’ll do when you wake up is ask for a mirror,” Sideswipe laughed lightly, adding after a pause, “And after that, we’ll discuss whether or not Prowl’s earned a break from our pranks. You wouldn’t want to be recovering in the brig.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please comment and tell me what parts, if any, you particularly liked. :)


End file.
